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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859277">The Tattoo On Your Shoulder</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrectbatfam/pseuds/incorrectbatfam'>incorrectbatfam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Slight OOC, Songfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:09:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrectbatfam/pseuds/incorrectbatfam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re still not over this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bart Allen/Eduardo Dorado Jr., Bart Allen/Jaime Reyes, Jaime Reyes/Traci Thirteen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Tattoo On Your Shoulder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to @bisexualoftheblade for the beta-read</p><p>The title should be pretty obvious as to what the song is, but in case you don't know it's Closer by The Chainsmokers feat. Halsey. I listened to the Seaway cover of it while writing this because I'm a rock person and it sounds gayer and more fitting</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>~ Four years later ~</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here we are, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hermano</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Las freakin’ Vegas! This is exactly what you need to get over Traci,” said Tye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno…” Jaime said, switching on the turn signal. “This feels a bit...</span>
  <em>
    <span>como se dice</span>
  </em>
  <span>...college spring break? We’re twenty-five, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ese</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Jaime’s not the only one who needs this,” Brenda interjected from the back seat of Jaime’s pickup truck. “I’m still pissed at Paco for what he did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime rolled his eyes. “He stole your brownies, so what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly! My </span>
  <em>
    <span>tía</span>
  </em>
  <span> made them special and I swear when I get my hands on that bastard…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remind me not to touch your food,” Tye muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled up to the Caesar’s Palace hotel—they all chipped in for a nice place. Tye went to check in while Jaime and Brenda unloaded their bags. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Khaji Da helped. The city was full of day drinkers that didn’t notice the tendrils coming out of a young man’s back anyway.)</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“Jaime Reyes, as a reminder: you are my host, and I will not allow you to consume alcohol or other harmful substances while on this expedition.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>He simply rolled his eyes and muttered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“hijo de puta”</span>
  </em>
  <span> over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“I am not the offspring of a female canine,” </em>
  </b>
  <span>the scarab said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I won’t drink if you shut up the rest of the time we’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Khaji Da chirped in agreement and Jaime breathed a sigh of relief, following Brenda into the hotel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They checked in and Jaime threw their stuff onto a bed, next to a clock reading: </span>
  <b>7:23 PM</b>
  <span>. That meant the friends had plenty of time to hit the boulevard like they (mostly Tye) planned to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime turned on the faucet and splashed warm water onto his face. He stared at himself in the mirror, lightly rubbing the stubble on his chin. Grabbing a razor, he ran it under water. He hadn’t shaved since him and Traci… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaime paced around the living room of their shared apartment. The numerous stuffed animals stared at him. Mocking him, like audience members of a gladiator tournament rooting for the lion. He angrily muttered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“¡Cállate!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the toys, fingers running anxiously through his dark and messy mane. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was nerve-wracking. How was he supposed to tell someone it was over? Someone who endured college with him, who he spent the past seven years with? How was he supposed to explain that the feelings that were there before—the passion, the domesticity, everything—no longer existed, fizzled out over the past several months? And what if she asked why? He didn’t have a why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Of course, the scarab chose now to be quiet.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lock clicked. Jaime’s breath hitched. It’s now or never.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaime, sweetie, you’re home early,” Traci greeted, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Thought you went out with your parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Mama had to leave early ‘cause Milagro had a school thing,” he answered. “How was your day, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bebé</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, the usual. I saw Zatanna today about a new spellbook she found on her last mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s cool.” Jaime rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting away from his girlfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She must’ve picked up on it, because next thing he knew she lifted his chin and looked into his eyes, concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She asked, “Is something wrong, Jaime?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime hesitated. “You might wanna sit down,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposed he shouldn’t’ve been surprised by the yelling, the tears, the books thrown at him from across the room with pinpoint accuracy. He couldn’t blame Traci. She was right to be angry and heartbroken. He would’ve been too if it was someone breaking up with him after the better part of a decade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime was only human. Even though he initiated it, it still hurt like hell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That scarab seriously won’t let you drink?” Tye asked, swirling a margarita that he picked up from a random tray. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Khaji Da chirped. Jaime shushed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>en serio</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said. “He’s a bigger health nut than a soccer mom from Iowa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them were against a wall on one side of the semi-luxurious club. It wasn’t a tuxedo place, which Jaime was thankful for because he forgot to pack a tie. His blue shirt and sport coat helped him blend in well enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Okay, the jacket was Tye’s. Jaime forgot to pack that too.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the bar, Brenda rejected another fellow. Jaime wasn’t the best lip-reader but he gathered something along the lines of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I have a boyfriend. I’m just here ‘cause my friend’s love life is in the pits”</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime internally groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She returned with a bubbling rosé in hand. “You know, Jaime, there are tons of gorgeous people out here. Like her.” Brenda pointed to a blonde woman in a pink dress, but as soon as she did another girl approached and kissed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Nevermind. How about that one over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gestured to someone with cropped blue hair wearing a tuxedo top and fishnet leggings. Again, that person seemed to be taken as they laced hands with someone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chica</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Everyone here’s clearly got someone. And I just broke up with someone a week ago, </span>
  <em>
    <span>recuerdas</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who could make me interested enough right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, it was Tye who spoke up. He nudged Jaime, glancing at someone sitting alone at a barstool. One look, and Jaime instantly recanted his previous statement. It was a guy, sitting all by himself. He looked around the same height as Jaime, with a lean athlete’s build. Lush copper locks that would’ve hung to his shoulders were instead pulled back in a small ponytail. The young man wore a simple white button-up that was translucent enough for Jaime to see the faint hints of a tattoo. His hands nursed a glass of rye, the ice cubes almost melted, and there was a distant expression on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” said Brenda, “go talk to him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The small shove from the girl was what Jaime needed. His feet moved as if on autopilot (or maybe it was Khaji Da). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat, catching the guy’s attention. “Is this seat taken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy—who appeared a few years younger than Jaime—shook his head. “Take it,” he said. “Not like I bought the chairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime pulled up a bar stool when Khaji Da chirped.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“Running preliminary scans.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, stop,” he hissed over his shoulder, earning a strange look from the guy. Jaime cursed. “Sorry, there was, uh, a bug on me.” He pretended to swat his shoulder blade. “I got it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy squinted at him before breaking out the cutest (albeit familiar) laugh Jaime had ever heard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem pretty crash. Can I buy you a drink?” the redhead offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime blinked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(When was the last time he heard that catchphrase?)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Khaji Da vibrated angrily against Jaime’s spine. The man replied, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lo siento</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I don’t drink. I-I was gonna offer to buy you one, actually. Er, another one. If you’re okay with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Not like booze does much to me. My body burns it off really fast,” he replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about Jaime counting out the cash felt right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy looked kinda young, so it wasn’t a surprise that the bartender asked to see some ID. Turned out he was twenty-two, according to the birthday, so barely old enough for the whiskey that Jaime slid him. Either that or it was a really convincing fake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime couldn’t help but peek at the name.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Bartholomew Henry Allen II.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny,” Jaime remarked. “I have a friend with that name too. I just call him Bart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man—Bartholomew—paused as he was about to take a sip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny, that’s what everyone calls me,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. Small world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sí</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Jaime slid the glass to the younger man, who caught it expertly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(What a small world indeed, bringing the two together.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a breath of silence as the latter sipped his drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Bart slammed down the empty snifter and said bluntly, “Alright, Blue, give it to me straight: are we gonna keep pretending to be strangers or are we gonna talk about,” he gestured between them, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaime sputtered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cut the crap, Jaime. I met Tye back at Caesar’s Palace. I asked him why you hadn’t reached out in four years. He said it was a question I had to ask you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The alcohol wore away almost as soon as it entered Bart’s system and he asked the bartender for another, something stronger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Again, like that made any difference.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lo siento</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jaime said. “I’ve been busy. You know how it is. Med school, my family, my girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could’ve at least tried,” Bart said matter-of-factly. “I get that we have our separate lives but you could’ve responded to at least one of my texts. Shit, even a thumbs up emoji once a year would’ve worked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I’m sorry,” Jaime said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apology accepted,” he waved dismissively. “So, you broke up with Traci.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bartender handed him another drink—this time an absinthe shot, which he downed in one gulp that stung his esophagus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Things kinda...didn’t work out,” the older one said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes two of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bart, I think we need to talk,” Ed said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart, who was busy reheating a pizza, looked over to his boyfriend. “Something wrong, babe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed took a deep breath, and something in the speedster’s chest dropped before a word was even said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we should break up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart laughed. “Nice one, Ed, but April Fool’s was three weeks ago. I’m from an alternate reality and even I got the memo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious, Bart. I don’t think that this,” he said, “is gonna work out for either of us in the long run. We’re just not compatible anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That dimmed the smile on Bart’s face. “We’ve been together five years. People get married in less time than we’ve been dating. Where’s this suddenly coming from?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just...our lives don’t fit together. I’m running </span>
  <em>
    <span>mi papa’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> business almost twenty-four-seven. I’ve already retired from this superhero stuff but you’re still Kid Flash full time. We never see each other ‘cause either I’m at work or you’re on a mission and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dios</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Bart, I can’t stand it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think it’s any better for me?” Bart asked, voice rising. “You get to sit back in a comfy desk chair doing your boring paperwork while I’m sticking my neck out ‘cause of retired heroes like you. Someone needs to be protecting people out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And out of hundreds of people, it just has to be you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m needed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eduardo glared at him, stone-faced. “Not everywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. If that’s what you want then,” Bart zipped around the house and picked up what little things he had to his name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And after that, he ran. He ran to Gotham, but couldn’t find his bat-friends for advice. He ran to El Paso, but Jaime was nowhere to be seen. He ran to Central City, but Barry and Iris were busy and Jay was…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart just ran.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jaime said, “what’s say we get outta here, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ese</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Tye and Brenda are going back to the hotel but I’m not tired yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart gave a quirked smile. “Depends. Where are we going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as Jaime thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Man, he’s cute when he’s concentrating.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snapped his fingers. “How about the Grand Canyon? It’s a few hours out, but I got a car and we can make it there and back by morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could run faster,” Bart pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime laughed. “The fun is in the journey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ese</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case,” the speedster handed the glass back to the bartender, “lead the way, her-man-o.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sixty minutes later, they shimmied out of the bright lights and heavy traffic of the city and it was just them on the freeway. Cars grew more sparse as they exited the metropolitan, passed the suburbs, and found themselves among the growing stretch of desert that seemed all too familiar to Bart. He didn’t want to distract his friend when the latter was driving, so he kept his left hand close enough to Jaime’s by the gear shift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Jaime began, “did you, like, get </span>
  <em>
    <span>un tatuaje</span>
  </em>
  <span> or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A what?” Bart asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tattoo,” Jaime corrected. “I forgot the word for a second there. It’s kinda see-through with your shirt so I was wondering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” the younger one answered, “Superboy—the new one, Jon Kent—accidentally discovered a new chemical on a LexCorp bust. It’s not dangerous, but turns out it makes a great pigment that lasts way longer than normal ink. You know, ‘cause of my metabolism and stuff. So I got a tattoo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I see?” Jaime asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart unbuttoned his shirt and pulled his sleeve down, revealing a tattoo along his deltoid. The pale skin was splashed with bright yellows and reds like watercolors. Some of it spilled over to his collarbone, but most of it was contained to his shoulder blade. Among the bright ink stood out a gold lightning bolt—the same shape as the wings from the late Wally West’s costume. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He got it somewhere that could pay tribute to the first Kid Flash, but that he didn’t have to look at.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put the shirt back on once Jaime got a good look, buttoning all but the top button.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So yeah, that’s that. What about you? Secret belly button piercing or something?” he teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime snorted. “No way, Khaji will take it as a personal attack. Plus, I don’t own enough crop tops to be able to show it off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” Bart countered. “You’re shirtless, like, half the time I’ve seen you. I’m surprised you’re wearing clothes right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime winked. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart laughed. With the windows rolled down on the empty road, it was the loudest thing in their vicinity, echoing off dunes and rocks. Even the blink-182 song on the radio wasn’t as loud. It was freeing. Like the weight of everything—the breakup, being a hero—lifted off Bart’s shoulder’s and he felt like he could run to Mars and back in thirty seconds. He slid open the sunroof and stood up, taking out his hair tie and letting the wind flow freely through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is so crash!” he shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Conejito</span>
  </em>
  <span>, get down before a bird poops or something!” Jaime exclaimed, pulling Bart back into the seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, Blue. Live a little. Plus, I think I see the canyon!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He was wrong, the Grand Canyon was another three hours away.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrived, the main tourist information station was closed as it was half past midnight. The sky twinkled with stars that never failed to captivate Bart, even after so many years. Jaime parked on a picture-taking spot and reached into the backseat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always keep blankets in case I’m stuck in the cold,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They rolled out the fuzzy throw blankets on the truck bed. Bart climbed through the back window, earning a chuckle from his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never done this before,” Bart said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First for everything,” Jaime replied. “And watch where you step, I think I still have a case of beer somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart reached into the pickup and drew two brown bottles. “Like these?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sí</span>
  </em>
  <span>, kinda like those.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scarab extended a tendril and opened Bart’s bottle but not Jaime’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on, Khaji!” the man exclaimed. “It’s one drink. It’s not even that strong of a drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Khaji Da gave a disgruntled vibration before extending a bottle opener. The two made a toast to...something, Bart wasn’t sure, and took a sip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It tasted terrible.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The desert was still like the precursor to a murder movie. The gorge was wide open like a bottomless pit threatening to suck them in. Somewhere, a hungry coyote howled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them minded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They scooted closer to each other at the same time. Bart finished his drink and tucked the bottle away. Jaime did the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then their hands touched. Jaime’s on top of Bart’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grounding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Safe in a way Bart never foresaw when it came to the Blue Beetle. Not safety promised from hard labor done right. Not the safety of hiding away. Just...safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bart?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The speedster looked up. Emerald eyes met deep amber and suddenly it was as if Bart forgot how to speak. Any words he had were lost in an exhale, hypnotized by the man who was only inches away.. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime traced his fingers along Bart’s jaw. “Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Bart nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully, the two pairs of lips met. The speedster closed his eyes and took in the faint taste of apple-flavored beer that roped him in for every second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(This was really happening. He was really kissing Jaime Reyes. Jaime Reyes was kissing him. His mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend how </span>
  <em>
    <span>crash</span>
  </em>
  <span> this was.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled apart. Bart whispered, “Do it again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as chaste, that second kiss was. It left him yearning for more, like a jar that’s been opened and was now waiting to be filled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Bart asked a third time, Jaime pulled him closer, this time stronger, hungrier. He wanted so much more and who was Bart to deny them both something they’ve been missing all these years? Bart’s hands found their way to the nape of Jaime’s neck, and he could smell the sweet cinnamon cologne. Jaime’s tongue swiped the bottom of Bart’s lips, demanding entrance. Bart opened the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His neck and back arched into Jaime’s hands. Jaime took the opportunity to pepper soft kisses along the side, from the pale jaw to freckled neck, all the way to the brilliant ink spillover on the younger one’s collarbone. Bart inhaled sharply through his teeth as the last one was rougher, leaving a far less innocent color. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He latched a leg onto Jaime’s hip, a warm sensation blossoming from his middle throughout his body. He felt the steel sides of the truck bed dig into his back as hands fumbled with the second button on his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allow me,” said Bart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He undid the button himself. Just that one, leaving the rest for Jaime. Bart practically vibrated with ecstasy, and both he and Jaime’s cheeks flushed bright pink. He gasped loudly as Jaime’s teeth dug into his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older of the two pulled back, worry clouding his eyes. “Are you okay? We can totally stop if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bart let out a single laugh. “Just when it’s about to get good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaime planted several kisses where Bart’s neck met his clavicle, whispering between each one, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Eres hermoso. Te quiero aquí y ahora.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea what you’re saying, but please don’t stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(What a small world indeed, bringing them back together.)</span>
</p>
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